


The Only Thing I Hate More Than Black Coffee is You

by LestatDeSade



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Awkward Family Dinners, Multi, Swearing, everything is a fucking disaster, vincent is afraid of snakes, who let an 19 year old college student run a coffee shop anyways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-31 00:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8555635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LestatDeSade/pseuds/LestatDeSade
Summary: Vincent makes Ciel run a coffee shop to pay for his own college tuition. Ciel hates coffee, hates his father and hates, more than anyone else, Sebastian Michaelis. Not sure what this is or where this is going, or if it's going anywhere.





	1. Chapter 1

Things were a disaster. Elizabeth was standing on a table with her long, vintage, pink gunne saxe dress held high to reveal her ankles, shrieking wildly. A white haired young man was apologizing to her profusely while a very large (and likely very frightened) python began to crawl out of a metal tea canister. Sebastian was trying to get her to calm down. Ciel was arguing with his father (Vincent, Lord Pain in the Ass Phantomhive) over the phone, somehow holding up both middle fingers during this conversation, while his stepfather, Diederich, was playing the piano while singing somberly in german. Down the street there was a little metaphysical shop run by two extremely kind indian men who would close shop for an hour at noon daily to have tea. It was exactly noon and they were coming in, for what would likely be, a very odd cup of tea. Just outside of a shop, a young punk was arguing with a cop over whether or not he could play an amplified electric violin on the street. They probably would not even care. It was a complete and utter cluster fuck. And this was a good day at work. And you know what? Let's just start this from the beginning. It will make way more sense that way, or perhaps, maybe not. 

It was an unmitigated disaster. Ciel was sitting in his family's almost palacial antique manor in the english country side, while the “for sale” sign was being lifted from the ground by the new owners. His father Vincent, once a struggling business man, now incredibly rich for having sold off all the family estate, including furniture that was from the victorian era, was smug and smiling. He plopped his hand on his son's shoulder. “We're really going to love america.”

Ciel wanted to major in violin. There was a nice college, located in the foothills of the adirondack mountains in upstate new york. It was expensive. It was across the pond. It was in the states, a place where Vincent vowed to never go. It was perfect. He could get away from his clinging father who treated him like a petulant child, and his step father, who was cold and distant and really intimidating. Ciel was scared of him as a small child. As a young adult, the fear never really went away. His mother had divorced his father after his father had come out of the closet in a fit of drunken honesty, putting Vincent into quite a bit of debt. The private college Ciel believed he was destined to attend was going to cost 180,000 dollars US. Per semester. Vincent sold everything for his son to have this chance. Alright, maybe his father wasn't that bad of a guy. Maybe. 

“Fuck off, Vincent!” Ciel shouted. They were arguing. Again. Diederich was in the other room, watching television, ignoring them with a kind of precise derision that only he could muster. 

“For everything I've done for you and you can't accept this?! You ungrateful brat!” 

“It's your own fault mum divorced you!”

“Nobody chooses to be gay, Ciel!” 

“Don't pull the gay card with me!” 

“I'm paying for your college, your rent, and your business. You owe me.”

“Fine,” Ciel conceded. He kind of owed him, kind of owed him a lot. Not for the whole being alive thing, but for the college thing, and not for the business thing. Vincent had one out of three, but he ws holding the college gun to Ciel's head. 

“All I ask of you Ciel, is that you get good grades at university, and that you run this coffee shop. It's time you help me pay off the mortgage, and your tuition.”

“You only bought that stupid coffee shop to spite me!”

“I don't do it to spite you, Ciel Diederich Phantomhive. I do it to challenge you.” Vincent said this as though it was completely normal for parents to set up their children with near-impossible tasks in order to gain their favor. Vincent liked to think of parenting as a game. A game kind of like the games in that movie 'Saw' where someone has to cut their foot off with a rusty handsaw in under an hour or starve to death in a dirty bathroom. Vincent showed Ciel that movie when he was thirteen and pretty much mentally scarred the boy for the rest of his life.

“You know how fucked up and sociopathic that sounds?”

“I'm not a sociopath, I have bipolar.”

“And there you go, pulling the mentally ill card.”

“You want to move in with your aunt and mother?” Vincent asked him. That was the wild card. His expression was grave and serious. Ciel was getting flashbacks of his redheaded spinster aunt who furiously hit on any (and every) young man she set eyes on while his mother laughed. He could feel the estrogen. It was too much estrogen. Ciel shook his head. 

“Good. I have already done the job of supplying the coffee shop, hiring a manager, who is a master barista and professional taste tester. I have also put help wanted ads in the local paper. All you have to do is meet the barista at the cafe tomorrow and interview the applicants and hire them.”

“I have three classes tomorrow.”

“You'll figure it out.”

It was tomorrow. Vincent had kicked him out of the house early as hell in the morning, with a cheerful smile on his face, and irish coffee in hand, and a 'cheerio, ciel!'. Ciel decided he would hire the first five people that walked in the door, call it a rousing success, and spend the rest of the day at college. The cafe was gorgeous and right on the main street, the inside being decorated in ways Ciel wasn't entirely sure his father could afford. There was even a piano inside of the cafe. The walls were decorated with classical style art. It was beautiful. It was antique. The insides were decorated with only the highest quality brewing equipment. There was a black haired man sitting inside of the venue, playing some sort of game on his smart phone. When he saw Ciel he immediately stood up. 

“Sebastian Michaelis,” the man said. He had the type of smile that would dazzle any woman. Fortunately, Ciel wasn't a woman. 

“You must be Ciel Phantomhive.”

“How do you know that?”

“You look markedly like your father,” Sebastian said. 

“I already hate you,” Ciel informed him. It was too early in the morning for him to be polite and this man had the smuggest possible look on his face. 

“I can make you the best cup of coffee you've ever had. It will help sweeten your mood and lift those dark circles from under your eyes.”

“I hate coffee. Like, congrats, you're a master barista. So is everyone else with an art degree that ended up working full time at starbucks.”

“You're only being an obnoxious little shit towards me because I look like your father and you have serious daddy issues.”

“How the hell would you even know about that?!” 

“Your father and I are very good friends,” Sebastian said, putting little air quotes around friends. Ciel recoiled just a little bit when he realized what Sebastian was implying. He really wished that he could unlearn that bit of information. 

“Alright then, Slutbastian. Shut your legs and help me. We're hiring staff and then we're gutting this hell hole. If I have to work for my father, it won't be at a fucking coffee shop.” 

 

The first applicant was a chinese exchange student named Mey Rin. She tripped over two chairs and smacked her hip against the piano on her way into the coffee shop. She wore thick coke bottle glasses that looked like something out of the 1980's. She had bright red hair and she was earnest, though her english could have used some work. Ciel hired her on the spot. Great. Next. 

The second applicant was an Iraq war veteran. He had an impressive resume, he was a private but he received an honorable discharge. He was an exert in ballistics and hand to hand combat. He was a pyrotechnics specialist who did fourth of july celebrations now. However, that hardly paid the bills so he was looking for a stress free job some place local. A man who loves explosions. What could possibly go wrong with that? You're hired, Bardroy. 

The third applicant was a young blonde man named Finnian. His only claim to fame was that he was a professional weight lifter, which would really come in handy. He could stock things. He could rip out dry wall with his bare hands. Perfect. The plan for remodeling this hell hole was churning in Ciel's head and Finny, as he liked to be called, would be essential. Ciel liked him. He seemed like an honest good kid with a deceivingly cute face. 

The fourth applicant was a guy with blindingly white hair named....Snake. That was apparently, his entire name. Snake. Just Snake. A guy named Snake with no last name or middle name. It even said so on his driver's license. He also had what was a very small and precious little hognose snake in the pocket of his jacket. His name was Ellis. Ciel found that charming in an odd way, though Snake was very quiet and seemed to use the snake as sort of a personal therapy animal to get through any kind of social interaction. Not to mention, Vincent hated snakes, was terrified of them actually, and so, Ciel decided that Snake would be coming over to meet the family very, very soon for dinner. 

With Bard, Mey Rin, Finny, Snake, and regrettably, Sebastian, Ciel had his A-team for the renovation. Except that they were more like the c-team. But hey, whatever. 

“Hey, new coffee shop,” said a customer who walked in. He was a tall, fashionably emaciated blonde who wore purple booty shorts, rainbow thigh highs and a tshirt on it that said 'twink' in pink bubble letters. 

“We don't sell coffee here. I'm not hiring anymore staff. Please leave.” Ciel said. 

“Uh.... is that a joke?” he said. His expression turned from a pleasant smile to righteously pissed off. He was about to go off like a forty year old soccer mom who really wanted to see the manager. Fortunately for Ciel he was the owner, and could boot this anorexic's ass to the curb. 

“No. This was a coffee shop, but in order to piss off my father, I'm tearing down all his expensive renovations in order to make it into a tea shop.”

“That sounds delightfully petty. I am so there,” he said. He stuck his hand out. “Alois Trancy, by the way,” his expression going to a cheerful smile. Ciel did not shake his hand. He didn't know where the kid had been. 

“Welcome to Team Ciel!” Finny cheered. They were getting along well. Great. 

Renovations were going well. Sebastian for some weird reason, had managed to completely renovate the entire coffee shop. With supplies purchased by Bard, Snake, and Finnian, with decorations picked out by Alois and Mey Rin- it looked near perfect. 

“I need that on rush delivery Lau,” Ciel spoke into the telephone. He was missing all of his classes to speak with a tea supplier directly from China. He could get the tea there tomorrow morning. Perfect. Great. Brilliant. Wonderful. Fantastic. 

“Mr. Phantomhive, we have a problem,” Sebastian whispered into his cellphone. He was sitting in the back corner of the coffee shop. Vincent was on the line.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wrote most of this at a cafe word sprint w/ my local nanowrimo group. :)

Ciel sat in the musical hall. There was a wide open stage lines with rows of violinists. Ciel was last chair. In the first chair was a punk rock looking kid named Cheslock. He was a legend. He was an upperclassmen. Ciel had only been at the college for fifteen minutes but as he walked through the halls of the music department, people wouldn't shut the fuck up about Cheslock. Oh, Cheslock's the best. Cheslock can master any instrument. Cheslock this, Cheslock that. Ciel was already determined to be better than Cheslock. He was already the first chair at his high school, Weston. The best boarding school in London, England, located right on the river Thames. He made some sort of imaginary enemy out of Cheslock. It was Ciel Phantomhive versus Cheslock, and honestly, Ciel hadn't even spoken a single word to the guy. For all he knew Cheslock's punk exterior could be hiding some kind of gentleman of grace and intellectual beauty. 

"'Sup Gregory, what the fucks up, my man," Cheslock said, to a long haired man. Then again, perhaps not. 

"I stopped by to give you this," Gregory said, handing Cheslock a plain brown paper bag. It made a rattling noise. 

"Thanks braj," Cheslock said. He was unceremoniously punk rock; and he probably was doing illegal drugs. Ciel was't sure what drug laws in america were like, but somehow he guessed only first chair in orchestra would get away with dealing drugs. 

Ciel was glaring down Cheslock, Cheslock's gaze met Ciel's. Ciel was dressed like a young dandy gentleman, in a fine tweed suit and tie. Cheslock wore ripped black jeans, a black tank top and shiny leather fingerless gloves. Cheslock stared him down like, 'who the fuck do you think you're looking at', then looked away, and began to re-tune his violin. When he was done, Ciel still staring at the sheet music they had to practice with, Cheslock played a few measures of the song. Damn it, he was fucking all that. He was fucking everything. Ciel suddenly felt extremely inadequate. 

 

After music practice, Ciel was back at the former coffee, now tea shop. The renovations were finished, the shop had this sort of high class air around it- but not a single customer. Sebastian was at the counter, looking bored and reading a book. Snake was shelving tins of tea. Meyrin was sweeping. Bardroy and Finnian were MIA. In Ciel's eyes, the only person being absolutely fucking useless was Sebastian. He was just standing there, reading, like some kind of pretentious asshole. How dare he. 

"If you have time to read, then you have time to work!" Ciel shouted at him. Meyrin and Snake turned to face Ciel then slowly returned back to their work. 

"Pardon me?" Sebastian asked. 

"Make yourself useful, Sebastian," Ciel said. Sebastian nodded and started up the hot water machine. He poured a cup of water measuring prcisely `85 degrees, and made a cup of darjeeling. 

Ciel was texting Vincent on his phone. He was putting together a long, long diatribe of twenty reasons why Sebastian Michaelis was a useless motherfucker, or rather, fatherfucker. Sebastian walked over and put forth an antique tea cup of darjeeling in front of Ciel. Next to it, he placed a bowl of sugar cubes and a creamer. 

"Please, have a tea cup of tea. It should certainly improve your attitude, Ciel," Sebastian said. 

At that moment, the door bell jingled and Ciel turned to face the door. It was just Alois Trancy. The blonde menace made a point to move the chair across from Ciel, right next to him. He then sat down and rested his elbow on the table, and his hand in his face. He batted his eyelashes at Ciel. 

"What are you drinking?" Alois asked. 

"Darjeeling."

Alois plucked a single cube and held it in his hand. He licked it sensually. Ciel recoiled. He then scooped up the melting cube in his tongue and gave it a little wiggle before stuffing it back into his mouth. Ciel recoiled further, but half of his mind wandered. He wondered, however briefly, about what other things Alois could with that tongue of his. Ciel did not find himself attracted to the young man, or rather, he hoped he didn't. There was a familiar, almost quality to Alois that Ciel could not quite place. Something about him felt like home, part of him made Ciel feel like he was watching a zoo exhibit. 

"Do you want to go out for a coffee sometime?" Alois asked. Ciel stared at him. 

"I hate coffee," Ciel said pointedly. 

"What about taking him out for tea?" Sebastian suggested. Ciel cleared his throat and set down the tea cup with a little clink. 

"The only thing that I hate more than black coffee, is you," Ciel said. He looked Sebastian directly in the eyes, the rust colored eyes meeting Ciel's intense, bright blue. There was no mistaking the honestly and sincerity of Ciel's words. To the bottom of his black little heart, he truly disliked Sebastian. Even more than Alois, if he disliked Alois at all, that is. 

"Daaaamn, that was fierce," Alois commented, then whistled. "Sick burns, Ciel." 

"The only thing hotter than my sick burns is myself," Ciel said. 

"Be careful not to cut yourself on that edge, honey," Alois told him. Ciel scoffed at that comment and drank his tea. Sebastian went back to reading his book behind the counter, assuming that Alois was not there to peruse the tea. 

"What in the fuck do you mean I can't play here?!" shouted a young man from outside of the tea shop. A police officer was standing by, looking annoyed, his arms crossed. Ciel was watching them. It was Cheslock, holding a portable amp and an electric violin. Next to him was an open voilin case, likely filled with change and a few crumpled dollar bills. 

"I'm sorry sir, but there was a complaint," the officer tried to explain. 

"Who the fuck is complaining? NOBODY complains about my playing?!" the young man demanded to know. 

Ciel saw his chance. A chance to fuck over his imaginary rival, Cheslock. On the inside he was smirking, but on the outside, he held his face placid. He would look peaceful and calm, he would not act if anything was wrong. Ciel finished his darjeeling and set it on the counter next to Sebastian. 

"Give me a refill, I have shit to do," Ciel said. Then he walked outside. For fresh air and sweet, sweet revenge. 

"Hello officer, may I ask what you are doing standing outside of my establishment?" Ciel asked the police officer, purposefully not making eye contact with Cheslock. 

"We have received a noise complaint from the store next door," the officer said. 

"While I did not make that call I will most certaintly say that I prefer my customers not have to deal with the sound of screaming outside of my tea house," Ciel said.

"I don't see any customers inside your place, looks empty as fuck," Cheslock commented. It got under Ciel's skin just a little bit. 

"I apologize, I will make sure that there is no noise outside of your business," the police officer said. He glared at Cheslock, who was already packing up his violin. 

"Whatever, I'll just play on Caroline street, ain't nobody complaining about my playing on Caroline street," Cheslock said. He walked away peacefully, and the officer walked in the opposite direction. Ciel smiled. Take that, Cheslock, you fucker. 

Ciel returned to the inside of his tea shop. Alois was still sitting there, as if he was waiting for Ciel to return. Ciel never officially hired him, so he had no idea why Alois was even there, except to bother him. Didn't he have anything better to do? Surely, he was the same age as Ciel and should have been in college. Sebastian was still reading. Meyrin had stopped sweeping and started working on washing the tables that didn't need washing. She put on the illusion of being helpful. Ciel could appreciate that. Even if she was cleaning in the most sloppy manner he ever seen and knocked over the placemats more than once, she always put everything she dropped back where it belonged. She was putting in the effort. Ciel, in the least, could honor her effort. Sebastian however, was completely useless unless he was making tea. In that respect, he had some talent. 

The doorbell rang in again. Coming into the shop were a couple of tall indian men wearing traditional garments. One of them dressed more plain, the other wore a crop top, a pierced nose with golden chain and gold dangling belly button ring. The burgundy haired young man commented, "I always judge a place by the quality of it's chai." 

"This place does seem like it is rather high class," commented the white haired man. 

"What do you think Agni, two chais? Or should we branch out?" 

"Whatever you like, you're the one paying for it," Agni replied. 

The young man approached Sebastian and knocked on the surface of the counter. 

"What can I help you with?" Sebastian asked in a monotone voice. His customer service skills sucked. 

"Two of your best chais, please?"

"We have the coconut vanilla chai, vanilla chai, classic chai, roiboos chain, caramel chai, and green chai," Sebastian said. He pointed at one of their brochures. "We have a list of other teas as well," he explained. His gaze showed no emotion. It was like they were talking to a robot. 

"I'm going to be daring and get the coconut vanilla chai, two cups please."

"And the name?"

"Soma," the young man said. Sebastian rang up the order. 

"That will be three seventy five, please," Sebastian said. Soma paid in cash. 

Soma and Agni were drinking their tea and chit chatting in peace with each other. They seemed to be good upstanding citizens. Ciel took it upon himself to approach their table to initiate a conversation (tm).

"May I ask how you are enjoying your tea?" Ciel asked them. 

"It's perfect!" Soma cheered. "I always judge a place by their chai and I think we'll be making this our daily tea break place. You guys have a way better tea than Uncommon Grounds." 

"That is fantastic, just so you know, I also sell our teas by the ounce, and I have a wide variety of teas coming in from all over the world, including single estate and organic teas," Ciel explained. 

"Impressive, Agni here is quite the tea addict," Soma said. 

"Tea makes the world run around," Agni said. 

"We own the little magic shop next door. Can you believe there was some sort of punk playing Shiva knows what outside of our shop earlier? You should really stop in sometime, we have a weekly meditation group," Soma said. 

"I'm not the meditating type," Ciel said. 

"You seem very tense, meditation could help you out," Agni told him. 

"Yes, I hear that meditation is very beneficial to the human mind," Sebastian added in.

"I meditate a lot, it really helps with my bipolar," Alois said. Ciel looked at him. Of course he was bipolar, Ciel should have recognized all of the signs.  The constant bothering him. Alois was just like his father. Ciel imagined that this means that his father would hate Alois. Ciel imagined himself dating Alois. The perfect way to spite his father. 

\---

Ciel found himself wandering around the shop next door. Something about the friendly young man who greeted seemed almost familiar, as if he knew him from somewhere. When he entered the shop, he was greeting by little display cases containing hundreds upon hundreds of different crystals. On the walls were rows of gilded deities and buddhas. There were books on various subjects such as crystal healing, self-improvement, and paranormal phenomenon. In the background, calming meditation music was playing in the background. Agni was rearranging the shelves. 

"Ah, Ciel, you're here!" Soma said, giving Ciel a hug. "Welcome, welcome."

"Here, take one of these home with you," Soma said. He reached into one of the bins and intuitively picked out a single crystal. He placed a smoky quartz point in Ciel's hand. 

"What is this?" Ciel asked. 

"Smoky quartz," Soma replied. 

"It's perfect for grounding and refining your energy, leaving way for creativity and flexibility," said a small accented voice. A young girl wheeled forward in her chair. She had a black cut bob and bright green eyes.

"This is our cashier, Sieglinde," Agni said. "She's our head witch in charge."

“We try to run a shop that caters to all practices,” Soma explained. 

The door bell rang again, and Sebastian was standing in the door way. He looked a bit more pale and gaunt than usual, as if something in this shop was scaring him. It was sort of the expression vampires in movies had when they walked past a church or had crucifixes waved in their face. Yet, Ciel didn't think that he knew Soma or Agni at all. Ciel wondered if he knew Sieglinde but it seemed rather unlikely that a grown man such as Sebastian would be hanging out with a teenager. Plus, Sieglinde gave Sebastian a dirty look, as if he just flat out was not welcome there. It seemed odd, really, given that all three of these people treated Ciel so kindly in their shop. 

“Ciel, you father is at the shop,” Sebastian announced, not taking one foot inside of the shop. 

“I have to see to this,” Ciel said. “Thank you for the crystal Soma, it is very kind of you.” 

“Did you feel that, Soma?” Sieglinde asked. 

“Bad vibes coming from that man,” Soma said. 

“Yeah, he's a real homewrecker,” Ciel said as he walked out of the door. He didn't think much on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update brought to you by SATAN. Everyone, get into a circle, hold hands and PRAY TO SATAN that one day, I may be a decent writer.

“I see you've done some renovations. Very classy,” Vincent said. The word classy rolled off his tongue in a sarcastic tone. He saw the team of miscreants Ciel called a staff and on the inside, a part of him died a little. When he saw a part of Alois, he wanted so badly to have an excuse to punch him in the face. Vincent was reminded of himself at that age. So badly bruised and beaten. His mother Claudia simply telling him to toughen up. She died mysteriously later that week. What a pity. He didn't know whether to be proud for society's progress or to be bitter and hate the youth for living so carefree in ways that he had suffered. 

“You're Vincent?” Alois asked. It was a stupid question. Of course this was Vincent. Ciel and his father looked oddly similar, as though they could be brothers rather than father and son. Vincent had to be in his forties but he still had that youthful glow. He looked like he could be Sebastian's age, or younger. Only Diederich knew how much money and time Vincent spent on his skin care routine, and whether or not Vincent had secretly gone under the knife in Korea on the pretense of a 'foreign business meeting'. 

“Daaaamn.... I can see why Ciel has daddy issues,” Alois said. 

Everything about Vincent screamed 'fuck me' to the blonde teen. He was tall, but not intimidating; he had a dazzling smile and defied british stereotypes with his perfect teeth. His accent was posh, and his mole was placed in the most flattering area possible. He could be a hollywood actor. He more or less gave Alois the snub. He wasn't at all interested in the boy. If anything, he kind of had this seventh-sense hatred of Alois. Vincent could tell he would have hated him before he even opened his mouth. Alois opening his mouth just cemented the hatred. 

“Oh my god,” Ciel exclaimed. Alois was making googly eyes at his father. Just like how he made googly eyes at Ciel. 

“I don't think we have issues, I think we're a perfect family.” 

Vincent said that like he and Ciel didn't have some kind of weird father son rivalry going on. Like Ciel wasn't bitter over the fact that his mother would likely never speak to him again. That his father wasn't prone to fits of mania. That he didn't lose the family estate in England. That he didn't grow up extremely confused about his own sexuality because the two men who influenced him most as a child were lying about everything to him. That Vincent didn't make their family sit through church on sundays and teach Ciel to hate himself for being gay while fucking his best friend every time Rachel went out of town to visit her sister, Angelina. Ciel was starting to think he needed a therapist, or at least an upper hand in his revenge plot against his father.

“Vincent,” huffed a man. Tall and just as handsome, though in a much more rough sort of way. He had a bit of stubble going on.

“You're late, Dee,” Vincent teased. 

“This is my step-father, Diederich,” Ciel introduced him. It was weird. Most of his life, he called Diederich his adoptive uncle and second father figure. Now he was literally Ciel's other father. It was weird how people in america, who had no idea of the Phantomhive's sordid past of lying, cheating, and years of adultery, were dazzled by the family. Two attractive men, living in a high rise apartment on the nicest side of an already expensive and ritzy town. Their son was handsome, and enrolled in a prestigious musical program at an old, expensive arts college. It looked perfect to everyone who had not witnessed Rachel's breakdown, the nastiest divorce possible, and how Diederich nearly got knifed to death with a corkscrew by a wine mom. 

“Oh wow, I didn't think your family was, you know,” Alois said this like the Trancy household wasn't completely dysfunctional. 

“Ciel, don't you have some sort of dress code for employees?” Vincent asked, pointing at Alois. 

“He's not an employee,” Ciel said. 

“I'm just hanging out here because I live upstairs,” Alois said. Ciel was not sure if he wanted to die himself, or if he wanted Alois die. Either way, someone had to shut the fuck up.

“Can I take off for thanksgiving?” Bard asked Ciel. 

“Sure, I don't celebrate it but whatever.” 

“May I suggest closing that day, most places aren't open that day says Ellis....” Snake said sheepishly. Vincent's face lit up with an idea and Diederich groaned and began an internal monologue of self-hatred, and introspection. 

“Yes! But also, let's celebrate thanksgiving and you can invite your boyfriend,” Vincent said, gesturing towards Snake. 

“Boyfriend?” Snake asked.

“You make a mistake, I'm his boyfriend,” Alois said. 

“Well really, nei-” Ciel tried to say. Alois was self-promoted. Ciel never asked him. Ciel was never going to ask him. Snake was, honestly not a bad prospect in comparison to Alois. 

“Great! You're both invited,” Vincent said this, and gestured Diederich to open the door for him as they left. The internal monologue continued. There was an entire chapter about his regret for marrying the only other gay kid from his boarding school. 

 

It was thanksgiving. Vincent had gotten drunk on prosecco the night before and because the of that, there was an army of hand turkeys* made from construction paper decorating the kitchen and dining room. They started off, after the first wine, as being pinterest worthy with defined, bold lines and cleanly cut shapes. Then they got wobblier, and wobblier, lines overlapping where they shouldn't, edges gone ragged and looking like picasso had gone blind and then had a psychotic episode inside of a children's art room. Surely he must have mixed a couple of xanax with alcohol. Still, he stubbornly stood by it the next morning, refusing to take down a single hand turkey. 

The little tea shop had closed that day, and thankfully, Ciel got to sleep in for the first time in months. College was closed for the holiday, a precious break which he could not have savored, for he not only still had to practice violin for six hours a day (he still had to be better than cheslock), but also had a tea shop to run. He wouldn't trust Sebastian to do it, and even if he did, if he took even a single day off, he'd most likely have to spend it around his father. He'd rather spend the time accompanying Bard in the alleyway behind the coffee shop, passing a joint and talking about life. Ciel was starting to get in the thanksgiving spirit, or at least, he had found something in american culture to be thankful for. 

It was five o' clock in the afternoon and Diederich sat drinking hot chocolate in the kitchen. Vincent was chatting with Ciel (who looked uncomfortable) and Snake (who, somehow, managed to look more anxious than usual). Snake had arrived early. Ellis, his therapy snake, resting happily in the warm, dark pocket of his fleece hoodie. It was bitter cold outside, the wind was a biting chill. Alois was still wearing short shorts with thigh high stockings. He compensated for his shaking legs with an over sized scarf made by his mother wrapped tightly around his neck. When he saw Alois walk in, Diederich silently walked over to the liquor cabinet, pulled out some rum, and filled up his half-empty mug to the rim. 

“I brought pie!” Alois cheered. Alois had made this pie. He had even made the crust from scratch, cutting out little heart shapes of the buttery dough and sticking them all by hand to the crust, making a decorative little symbol of his obvious crush on Vin- er, no, Ciel. He put it on the counter, still wrapped in tin foil, and joined Ciel on the chair. Alois sat on his lap and gave him a kiss on the cheek that Ciel, unsurprisingly, did not reciprocate. Diederich added more rum to his cup.

“Alright, we're all here, time for food,” Vincent said. The table was set. Diederich had the turkey out of the oven. Nothing was on fire. It was a good day. 

Snake looked suspiciously at the hand turkeys, took Ellis out of his pocket, and set the sweet tempered reptile on the table. At first, Vincent looked at the snake in disbelief, as though he was pondering as to whether or not he had too much to drink. Then, he looked surprised, and then, once he was convinced of the snake's reality, let out a deafening shriek that surely everyone else in the apartment building would hear. Diederich looked at Ciel, frowned, and took another sip of what was, by now, straight rum. Vincent was on the floor, still shrieking in terror. Snake was profusely apologizing, and trying so desperate to explain that Ellis was a therapy animal, and not only harmless, but friendly. 

“I appreciate your attempts at reasoning with him, but hes not a reasonable man,” Diederich explained. Vincent was still screaming. In the bathroom. With a towel shoved under the door. Ellis, by instinct crawled himself around Snakes wrist and gave him a reassuring nudge. 

“I'm really sorry Vincent!” Snake said, pressed against the door. 

“Here, you should probably leave,” Diederich said. He packed Snake a plate of hot food. “I packed some pie in there as well.”

“I am so sorry about this,” Snake said, tears forming in his eyes. He turned around and left the high rise apartment, snake in tow. Nobody noticed that he was crying. 

“He's gone Vincent.”

“Did he take the snake with him?”

“Yes he took the snake with him!” Diederich yelled. 

“You fucking jerk!” Ciel said, kicking at the bathroom door. 

“I'm the jerk?! He had a snake with him! Who the fuck just carries around a bloody snake?!” 

“He has severe anxiety and that's his therapy animal!”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river!” Vincent said. 

Alois sat at the table, eating the best turkey he had ever had in his entire life while texting his younger brother a detailed play-by-play of everything that was happening. Somewhere within reasonable walking distance, Hannah was yelling at Luca for using his phone at the dinner table. Vincent cracked open the bathroom door, looked around for a snake, and then, exited the bathroom. His face was red. He had been crying. Diederich gave Vincent a derisive look and took another drink. 

“You're going to give yourself alcohol poisoning.” Vincent told Diederich. 

“I'm german, we don't get alcohol poisoning.”

The next morning, Ciel woke up on the living room floor. He was wearing his clothes from the night before. Alois was sleeping on the couch, a blanket draped over him. He snored lightly, his disheveled blonde hair covered his eyes. Ciel took out a sticky note and wrote a message, “Opening the shop this morning,” and then he stuck the note in Alois's hair. He took a quick shower and skipped breakfast. Before he left the apartment, Ciel grabbed Alois's scarf and wrapped it around his neck. Alois would have to get it back from him personally. 

Ciel was late and Sebastian was in the shop, wiping down the tables. Ciel scowled at him before warming up the water heaters and making himself a cup of darjeeling. He tiped a scant spoonful of milk into the brown liquid. He absentmindedly stirred his tea in a spiral. Sebastian was staring at him. He must have assumed that Ciel didn't notice, but Ciel noticed. There was something predatory in his gaze, but Ciel forgot about his thought when the door rang. It was Diederich. 

“What the fuck are you doing coming in here with a fucking starbucks?”

“You don't have an espresso machine.”

“Cry me a fucking river, traitor,” Ciel muttered and walked into the backroom. 

“I should have went to military school,” Diederich sighed. Like father, like son.

**Author's Note:**

> Vincent makes Ciel run a coffee shop to pay for his own college tuition. Ciel hates coffee, hates his father and hates, more than anyone else, Sebastian Michaelis. If you want to see more, leave a comment/kudos. If I don't get any, then I'll assume I just bored everyone to death and won't bother writing any more chapters.


End file.
